Page 102 of Bless This Hot Mess

Rino dropped his head briefly into his hands and Japheth squeezed his knee in solidarity. “Can we talk about anything else, please?”

“How is the new show going?” Leonardo asked, smoothly redirecting the conversation; he was clearly accustomed to his son’s passionate outbursts. “Business is good? Are you happy working at the station?”

Japheth stiffened. He hadn’t told them. Of course, he hadn’t told them yet. To the Ferraris, WWJD was likely just one more investment, or might it be something more?

“About that,” Rino said slowly. He glanced at Japheth as if asking for permission to share. “There has been… a development.”

Alma’s hand went to her necklace, “What development? Is everything okay?”

Eva, who had been busy swiping bread through her marinara sauce, paused, eyebrows lifting quizzically, “Oh no. Is this about the fire?”

Japheth’s fork clinked against his plate, “You… heard about it already?”

“In this town?” Eva asked rhetorically. “We smelled the smoke. But seriously, if an altar boy farts in Kingston, Napanee knows before lunch. Of course we heard. People aresaying WWJD burned down because God was offended by your remix ofRhythm Divine.”

“That wasn’t even a remix,” Japheth protested. “That was a straight up cover. The lyrics work well as a hymn. Enrique Iglesias did us a solid there.”

Alma crossed herself, “Fire is very serious. Thanks be to God no one was hurt, eh?”

“We… don’t know that yet,” Japheth said. The words felt heavy, like stones in his mouth. “We can’t find Emma-Lou. She’s missing.”

Leo’s face tightened, lines around his eyes deepening. “What? Missing how?”

Japheth hesitated, glancing at Rino. He was acutely aware of the swirl of rumours around the Ferraris, the whispered theories about the Bermudian disappearance of Emma-Lou’s parents, and the unasked question that his friends had trusted him to finally find out. It gnawed at him.What if these people he was eating gnocchi with were behind it all?

“We were all at the radio station together, and we had some business with our lawyer so my bandmates, Rebekkah, Ronald and I left,” Japheth said carefully. “I was told that Emma-Lou went up to her office with… someone. They argued. Then she ran after him. And now, well, no one has seen her since. And as you know, WWJD is gone, too.”

Silence settled over the table like an unwelcome guest. Alma’s hand flew to her mouth. Eva’s eyes widened; even she hadn’t heard this part of the story. Leo’s gaze slid to his son, sharp and assessing. He tapped two fingers on the table with authority before asking directly, “Rino, who was she with?”

Rino put his fork down, deliberately. The candlelight carved shadows along his cheekbones as he looked his father in the eye and answered, “Me.”

Japheth’s heart lurched and he turnedto Rino, “We didn’t know… exactly. We assumed because Carrington had seen you leaving the station, on a call. They said you seemed agitated.”

“I was agitated. I was trying to get through to Stanford Weinus and he’d placed me on hold for eternity, again,” Rino snapped and then steadied himself.

Leo’s jaw flexed, “And what were you arguing about with Emma-Lou,figlio mio?”

Rino exhaled through his nose, measuring his words carefully, “Money. Promises. The usual song and dance with the Burns. That we would keep sponsoring the station, that she would keep the station on its feet, that the Ferrari name would not become a mockery in the town, that I would not be the only one trying desperately to keep WWJD alive through some errant act of valour while everybody sings about… I don’t know, God’s butt. No offence,Polpetto.”

“We don’t sing about God’s butt,” Japheth said reflexively.

“Not yet,” Eva murmured. “But I’d listen to that.”

Alma reached across the table and swatted her lightly, “Not helping,mia Amata.”

“And we’veallbeen trying to save the station. Trinity, Carrington, Suwarna,Emma-Lou. We’ve all been busting our butts to get more listeners, get real advertisers, build a show that people want to listen to! We appreciate everything you do, Rino. What you all do,” Japheth said, looking around the table, “but we’re not just over there with thumbs up our butts.”

“Yes! This!” Alma poured Japheth more wine, he wasn’t sure he should indulge further. “This passion is what will save a business, save a town, save a marriage from getting frostbite.”

Leo turned back to Rino, “And then?”

“Emma-Lou ran after me, like Japheth said,” Rinoconfirmed. “Down the elevator, out of the building. She wanted to talk more. I told her I had a meeting at Weinus, Weinus & Ware, that we would talk tomorrow. And then I left. I saw Japheth and his band at the law office. We signed the paperwork for the Kia Rios and then I left. I called Emma-Lou after because I felt bad about how we’d left it. There was no answer. I honestly didn’t give it much thought. I was looking forward to my date with Japheth, and I didn’t learn about the fire until later. I had no idea Emma-Lou was missing.”

He sat back, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness that looked strange on him, like it wasn’t a feeling he’d grown familiar with. “That’s all I know.”

“People might think… maybe the Ferraris…” Japheth began, then stopped, his courage petering out. The table seemed to vibrate under his hands, like the ground in the early moments of an earthquake, still and yet not. Everything he’d assumed about Rino’s involvement was suddenly emerging for reassessment.

“That we make people disappear?” Leo finished calmly. He took a sip of wine, eyes never leaving Japheth’s. “This is not a new story. My father heard it. I heard it. Now my children hear it. We are good Catholics. We give money to the church, to the Christian radio station. We sell cars. We shout a little. We have loud dinners. We are not saints, but we are not…” He made a small slicing motion with his hand. “Not that.”